


Forbearance

by Incorporeal_Ice



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Character Study, Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25161622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incorporeal_Ice/pseuds/Incorporeal_Ice
Summary: Neither party involved is getting any semblance of what they want out of this arrangement. Somehow, it continues anyway.
Relationships: Graig | Hendrik/Homer | Jasper (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Forbearance

**Author's Note:**

> This work contains vaguely described sex for an attempted, brief character study, not smut.

With a scowl that is somehow deeper than the one so deeply embedded in his features, Jasper pushes open the creaking doors in front of him. It’s essentially a ritual, by now. The absence of a knock, an announcement of his presence, of decorum, it’s how he signals to the one on the other side.

And really, it’s an elegant and simple method of setting the tone to follow.

He hardly looks to see what Hendrik is in the middle of doing when he lets himself in. Sometimes it’s reading, paperwork, sleeping. It never really matters. To Jasper, at least.

What does matter, is that as soon as he’s aware of his ‘guest,’ both of them know exactly what’s going to happen.

There are no words. Once upon a time, Hendrik made attempts. Weak questions, unsure mutterings of his name. Now, that hesitation simply shows on his face as they cut to the chase, disrobing in silence that even for the both of them is uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Jasper has stopped caring.

They share the barest of intimacies. All too briefly, he takes his fill. His hands roam that immaculately chiseled body with near disdain that maybe Hendrik could sense if he was capable of doing so at all. It feeds both his arousal and his contempt, which is all that he needs to continue.

He can only take it for so long. By now, Hendrik is usually weakly attempting to mimic him, calloused and fumbling hands barely even touching Jasper’s lithe frame, never making it past pronounced hipbones. If it weren’t for those vulgar magazines he attempts to keep hidden away, one might have expected him to be lacking in sex drive altogether.

When these thoughts start to creep in, is when Jasper knows it’s time to move things along. That unsure face, trepidation betraying a strong jawline is too sickening for him to bare. It only makes him want to take what he came here for and leave.

So he does, abruptly pulling away, breaking the warmth between their bodies and making himself at home on his host's bed; Stomach down, back arched, impatient scowl over his shoulder. Obediently, Hendrik stumbles his way over, mattress heaving at his substantial weight kneeling atop it. Nervous hands cup the crests of his hips, and finally, finally they get on with things.

Jasper hisses as he enters. No differently than outside of the bedroom, the only thing Hendrik has going for him is size. His rhythm is clumsy, the way he tries to stifle those constant grunts and noises is insufferable, and Jasper is fairly certain if he turned to look at him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting off the bed and leaving.

He can’t remember how this started, and really, he does not care to. What he does recall, painfully vividly, were the differences. He knows how Hendrik would prefer things to go. Missionary, eyes locked, soft embraces and tender kissing. Frankly, he was better at it that way. It probably even brought Jasper more pleasure, but it was absolutely not what he wanted.

What he needed. And he still is not getting it.

As Hendrik nervously bumps into him, Jasper can’t help but ruminate. It’s the part he hates most about this. The unyielding and boorish man who wrought himself fame from his strength, his brutality and unquestioning conviction, could not be a greater departure from that image in this moment. He is meek, apprehensive, passive.

Weak.

And yet, this is the same man that ruined him. Eclipsed him, cast him aside, and somehow it’s as if Jasper was in someone else’s bed.

His back was bared, vulnerable, brilliant platinum hair still meticulously tied. His face lay against satin sheets, palms flat. All of it _begging_ to be ruined.

Even if he’ll never admit it to himself, he knows the reason he comes back. The reason he initiates this. He came here for the brute, the uncaring bastard who shoved him into obscurity. The man who would tug on his hair, push his head down, give him bruises, make his nails dig into linens.

Instead, he has this. Hendrik has made his life so unfulfilling, abandoned and outshined him, and yet even here he cannot give Jasper what he wants from him.

“Can’t you go _any_ faster?!” He bites out, venom and frustration lacing every syllable, as if the act of merely speaking to this man was torture.

It’s the first and only word he’ll probably utter this evening. Normally, he doesn’t say anything at all. Based on his uncomfortable introspection, Jasper is probably just in that kind of mood.

It doesn’t help that Hendrik really isn’t a good distraction.

He makes an uncomfortable sound. If Jasper were paying attention, he could pick out the hurt in his voice. But to his credit, he makes an effort, pushing forward more quickly, adding at least a token amount of intensity to this lukewarm, depressing affair.

The best part is when Hendrik is finally getting closer. Jasper could never determine if he had actual endurance, or if things went on too long for his own liking. Regardless, as he neared his end, some unconscious level of that veneer, that fabricated gentleness peeled away. His hands gripped a little too tight, his thrusting from haphazard to selfish, and there’s the faintest echo of satisfaction ringing in the jaded knight's cold heart. And if it weren’t for this, he might have slapped away a rough hand ineptly reaching around his hip to grab at him.

Jasper cannot decide if he respects the gesture, or resents it. His arousal leans towards the former, but his contempt tells him it’s merely a vain effort. Regardless, he came here for some kind of release, so he does not protest.

From there, it always blurs together. Before he knows it, they’re both panting, warm and slumping. Hendrik always takes far too long to remove himself, so like everything else, Jasper sees to it, and pointedly turns his back as he rights himself. Behind him, he doesn’t need to see what’s going on to know. The giant of a man sits down, eyes downcast like a scolded child.

He doesn’t have to shake his hand free, anymore, like he used to. Hendrik knows better now. There’s no mutterings of his name. Questions. No longing left in that stern face, no attempts to pull him into the bed. It’s the only thing the man seems to have learned, and if it weren’t for this, Jasper probably couldn’t stomach the charade anymore.

No, he just too promptly dresses, collecting himself and his things, and sees himself out. There is no hesitation, no glances back into Hendrik’s chambers, no hint of acknowledgment. At least for tonight, it’s over and done with.

And despite neither of them being satisfied, Jasper knows this won’t be the last time he leaves. 

**Author's Note:**

> [ _There's only misery_ __  
>  _To keep me company_ __  
>  _Love me or let me be_ _  
> _ _Please stop haunting me_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RfsAtKdATj0)


End file.
